


Louder Than Sirens

by whimsical_ramblings



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Biting, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1808941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsical_ramblings/pseuds/whimsical_ramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snake and Ocelot get re-antiquated sometime during the events of The Phantom Pain</p>
            </blockquote>





	Louder Than Sirens

Ocelot had nearly drowned once. He’d been in Hanoi at the time, and most of what he remembered of the incident was lost in a blurred haze of empty space tucked away near the back of his mind. But he remembered clearly how it felt, how his lungs had filled with water until the weight of it felt as though it would break him apart, how the edges of his vision had gone dark and his thoughts, for once, hadn’t mattered anymore, how the rush of oxygen filling his mouth and head and veins had made the world shift when two familiar hands hauled him out of the river. And it was now, with the solid weight of another’s body on top of him, and the burn of stubble hot against his skin as his lips moved in tandem with the one’s above him, that he realized just how much kissing Snake felt like drowning. 

Snake ground his hips against his own, his calloused hands warm as they pulled the front of his jacket open and slid up his shirt. Ocelot heard the sound of fabric ripping when the buttons came undone, and nearly bolted upright. 

“Wait—,” he started to say, but Snake freed his hands from under his shirt and, grabbing his shoulders, pushed him back to the floor. 

“S’fine,” he said, panting, smashing their mouths together again. Ocelot brought his hand to the back of Snake’s head and grabbed a handful of hair, happy to submerge himself once more. 

It was hard to imagine just how much time had passed since the two of them had even been alone in the same room together. Conscious, that was. After everything that had happened with Zero, Snake had made himself scarce, limiting the number of people that came close him, withdrawing into a distrustful mind that kept out anyone and anything it perceived as a potential threat. And that had included Ocelot.   
Ocelot moved a hand between them to pull at the belt of Snake’s military fatigues, and he wondered if all of this meant that he’d been forgiven. Maybe it meant that Snake had missed whatever had been lost between them over the years. Or maybe Ocelot was just an outlet for him, something he could use for his own purposes, for information or sex or anything in between. Ocelot wondered what it said about him that he really didn’t care. 

Fingers tangled themselves in his hair, yanking his head back, and Ocelot gasped when Snake’s teeth broke the skin of his throat. 

“John!” he cried out before he could stop himself, feeling the lightest trickle of blood work its way down his adam’s apple. The grip on his hair tightened. 

“Don’t call me that,” Snake growled. 

With his free hand he undid the belt on Ocelot’s pants, just as he’d had done for Snake earlier, and, his thumb catching in the waistband of his underwear, pulled them down to expose Ocelot’s cock, already hard, and fisted his hand around the head. 

“Fuck,” Ocelot cursed, back arching, hips rising to meet Snake’s. It wasn’t enough, though, to just lie beneath him. Not for Ocelot.   
Pushing himself off the floor with his feet, he managed to flip them around and straddle Snake’s waist. Snake stared up at him defiantly. 

“Get off,” he said, and Ocelot grinned. 

“Working on it,” he said, tugging Snake’s belt free. 

“I meant get off of me,” Snake snarled.

Ocelot reached down Snake’s pants, grabbing his cock, and Snake grunted, bucking against him. 

“You sure you want that?” Ocelot asked. 

In a matter of seconds, Ocelot found himself on his back again, the air knocked from his lungs, with Snake’s face hovering over him. 

“Arrogant prick,” Snake muttered, and pulled the hem of Ocelot’s shirt up over his head, stopping when it snagged on his elbows, effectively trapping his arms above him. The stab at Ocelot’s pride was quickly replaced by the bolt of pleasure that shot up his spine when Snake started grinding their hips together again, their cocks trapped between their stomachs.   
Snake continued to rock against him, Ocelot’s back arching against he movement, and he felt Snake’s hands traveling up his chest until they found his neck, his fingers ghosting around the edges of his throat, squeezing gently, teasing him with possibilities. Ocelot stared up at him. 

“Do it,” he said, and just as Snake’s fingers started to curve around his neck, the door swung open. 

“Has anyone seen my…oh.” 

One of their newer recruits stood in the doorway, his eyes locked on the two of them, hand still clutching the handle of the door. 

“Get out,” Snake yelled, and the kid scurried away, slamming the door behind him in his haste. Sighing roughly, Snake looked down at Ocelot. 

“You didn’t lock the fucking door?” 

“Oh I’m sorry,” Ocelot snapped. “Next time we’re about to fuck in the showers, I’ll be sure to remember.” 

“Will you really?” Snake asked, leaning down until their faces were inches apart. “Or do you get off on the thought of someone walking in and seeing you like this?” 

His hand wandered down again to slide inside the front of Ocelot’s underwear, and he groaned, bringing Snake’s other hand up to his neck. 

“Shut up and finish what you started,” he said, a challenge in his eyes, and Snake tightened his grip.


End file.
